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by jubah



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-08
Updated: 2014-07-08
Packaged: 2018-02-07 01:06:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1879206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jubah/pseuds/jubah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was the most simple thing in the world, and yet she couldn’t bring herself to explain it to him.</p>
            </blockquote>





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**Author's Note:**

> Written for the "Edain Summer" event @ Tumblr  
> I really... really, really love the Edain... ;_;

She loved Haldir dearly, but she wasn't sure if she understood him very well.

  _It must be my looks._ Glóredhel had been given a fair name in the fair-tongue for nothing but the fairness of her looks. She had failed to give her son Handir any living siblings, but she and her husband were not so old yet as to not have hope, and though her beauty had somewhat faded, it had not disappeared. _Not completely_. That must be why he still favored her like this, showing her as much care as he had on the first day she stepped inside his house.

 Whenever he visited her bed, he tried to leave as quietly as possible the next morning so as not to wake her up, but she could always tell when his body started shifting and his warmth left her side. Then he would go to do his duty, and she would have her maid help pluck out the white hairs that had started growing on her head. Every morning she combed and braided it in the Hadorian style, though by now all her clothing followed the Haladin fashion, more appropriate for the climate of the woods that surrounded her. Lovely woods, full of light and life and warmth, but it rankled, sometimes, not having the mountains in the far distance, or vast plains where the eyes could rest.

 She missed it all, truthfully, and never failed to send letters to her family, which sometimes went months by without an answer. Her mother was old, her brothers were busy, and maybe even more so was Lady Hareth, herself the mother of two strong boys by now. _I'm not envious._ Glóredhel was happy for them, really, truthfully. Hareth's boys would be like brothers to Handir, and like sons to her and Haldir, she had decided long ago. With that purpose in mind she had sent even more letters to Hareth than usual, describing plans to foster the boys in Brethil ( _just for some time_ ), Húrin and Huor both ( _why not?_ ). With many arguments and emotional pleas that made the whole scheme seem very sensible and desirable at the same time, she sent the messenger forward, and spent the following days in anxious anticipation. _Yes_ , maybe Glóredhel could not give Haldir the sons and daughters he wanted, but she could at least try to give him nephews to love and cherish.

 The answer came (like most good things did) with her husband and son that very evening, when, upon arriving, they went straight to her chamber (instead of summoning her, in the most Haladin fashion). There had been letters from Dor-Lómin, one for each of them, but Glóredhel didn't have time to read anything before Handir filled her in on the most important information they contained.

"...they are around the same age as I am, mother, and my aunt says they enjoy hunting in the Hadorian fashion, with horses. I don't understand. What is the purpose of that? I told father it seems pointless to use horses in the woods, but he said they are smart and know the woods well. Certainly not better than us?"

 Haldir chuckled, taking his arm from around their son's shoulders and ruffling his hair in the way Handir only pretended to dislike. It always made Glóredhel so proud to see them standing side by side, how much Handir resembled his father while still displaying something uncannily hers in the shape of his nose and mouth and the freckles on his face and limbs. _Our son_. She smiled with a happiness she hadn't felt lately, and it only increased when her husband's hands came rest on her shoulders, his lips kissing her cheek with ease despite the difference in their heights.

 "The hunting is for fun, Handir, not just for killing the animal. You're right that no horse or man, no living creature can know these woods better than we do, but that is not the point. If they bring horses, you should learn how to use them to hunt, and in exchange teach your cousins other more practical things, how about that?" Turning his attention to Glóredhel, he kissed her cheek again, brushing it lightly with his fingers. "Why are you so silent? Will you not defend your people’s strange habit of turning most everything into sport?"

 She smiled again. "I will not, husband, for it is true. My son, I won't deny it: we do sometimes get lost in the pleasure of the details and end up forgetting what our objective was in the first place. Nonetheless, we never forget the important things." She touched Haldir's hand where it rested against her shoulder. "I am glad that our nephews will come. I think you will become good friends, Handir, maybe even like brothers, if you can show them the goodwill you show everyone else. And," she turned her eyes on Haldir again, her voice a bit quieter, her smile a little more timid, " I think you shall treasure them too. I pray they can be to you the sons you never had."

 His smile faltered then, but he didn't answer, instead returning to Handir’s side. _Did I displease him by reminding him of that?_ She felt a surge of panic for a moment that seemed to stretch into eternity, her hands cold when he stopped touching them, while her husband sent her son off on some pretext and remained alone with her in her chambers. It didn't bring her relief when he strode back to where she was and made her to look at him.

 "Glóredhel, we have talked about this. Handir is the best son a father could ask for. I do not need any more children. I am happy to receive my nephews as family, for that is what they are, but I have only one son, and you for wife, and I wish for nothing more."

  _Lies_ , said a voice in her heart, and she cast her eyes down. He wouldn't lie to her, but she also knew it couldn't really be true. She had two brothers, while he had one and also two sisters. Handir was beautiful, valiant and strong, but Handir was one, with no siblings of his own, and Glóredhel could not feel as if it was not her fault. Haldir had already had a child even before they married, a bastard son she hardly ever saw nowadays, as strong as her own Handir... Glóredhel dreaded the day when Haldir would tire of their fruitless efforts and look in other beds for a happier outcome. _It will never happen_ , he had told her once when she had dared confess the doubt that threatened to eat her alive some days, but the fears had never really gone away.

 She excused herself and said something meant to sound reassuring, but he took her in his arms and she was grateful for it. This was home for her, and nowhere else. The woods, the mountains, her room in her father's house; nothing really seemed to mean anything next to Haldir's hands stroking her skin, his lips forming loving words while moving against her neck. No, nothing could ever feel as warm and safe as she felt when in his arms.

 It was the most simple thing in the world, and yet she couldn’t bring herself to explain it to him; it almost embarassed her. She knew with a surety she had seldom felt in her life with regards to anything else: _if he leaves me, I will not be able to bear it. If he leaves me, I would rather die._

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much, Kate, for helping me as usual!!


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